


The Uses of Improvisation

by DoctorPea



Category: British Actor RPF, Sherlock (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, Rentboys, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorPea/pseuds/DoctorPea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What's your name," Mark asked, hoping to sound casual as he sat down next to him on the couch and handed over the drink.</p><p>"Tristram." </p><p>Mark snorted. "Please."</p><p>"Alright." The man deflated slightly. After some time, he continued, much more quietly, "Fine. Peter."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Uses of Improvisation

**Author's Note:**

> Everything in this is completely and utterly fictional.

Standing now in Mark's living room, the young man looked slightly out of place, dressed in a white vest and indecently tight jeans, his black leather jacket flung over one shoulder. For all his bravado and flirtatiousness earlier at the bar, he now seemed at a loss for what to do, like he could barely suppress the urge to fidget. Mark smiled.  
  
"Do take a seat," he drawled, and motioned towards the couch. Walking over to the side-table, he called over his shoulder, "Scotch?"  
  
"Thanks," the man answered.  
  
Mark still hadn't asked for his name. He wondered if he should, if that was even appropriate. Well, why the hell not, he thought, he was not going to use his real name anyway.  
  
"What's your name," Mark asked, hoping to sound casual as he sat down next to him on the couch and handed over the drink.  
  
"Tristram."  
  
Mark snorted. "Please."  
  
"Alright." The man deflated slightly. After some time, he continued, much more quietly, "Fine. Peter."  
  
That was much better, Mark thought. Even if Peter was just another alias, it was at least believable.  
  
Taking a sip of scotch, Mark began, "So, Peter, tell me, what is it you do?"  
  
Suddenly bolder, whether because of the drink or the familiar territory, Peter turned and casually leaned in so that he was inches from Mark's face.  
  
"Oh, I do all sorts of stuff."  
  
Mark could swear that Peter's lovely brown eyes turned jet black at that.  
  
"Is there anything you don't do? No kissing, I suppose; isn't that the rule?"  
  
"Yeah, usually," Peter chuckled and playfully trailed a thumb along the outline of Mark's lips, "I like you though; I think I'll make an exception for you." And with that, he kissed Mark, filthily and wonderfully wet, thrusting his tongue into Mark's mouth and even forcing Mark's tongue back when he tried to do the same.  
  
Cheeky little bugger, Mark thought.  
  
He'd only just been able to set his glass down safely on the floor before Peter pushed him back onto the sofa and straddled Mark's lap.  
  
"Now, what is it you want me to do, hm," he purred, running his hands teasingly over Mark's chest, and Mark shuddered when Peter's fingers brushed over his nipples, despite all the layers of his three-piece suit. "Now most fellows, they want me to suck them off," Peter began lazily circling his hips, "and I'm sure you'd like that too, but I can tell by the look of you that you're the sort who wants my cock in their mouth, don't you?"  
  
Mark moaned.  
  
"Thought so. You want me to fuck your mouth until you choke on my cock." He pushed two fingers into Mark's mouth and Mark sucked eagerly, wanting to show off how good he was, how well he'd suck Peter if he only got the chance. He'd no idea how or when the tables had so completely flipped in Peter's favour.  
  
Peter's jeans were incredibly tight; Mark could see the outline of his hard prick perfectly as Peter kept on rubbing himself against Mark. He swallowed.  
  
"Well go on, then," Peter said and leaned back slightly, so that his arse was flush against Mark's cock. "I'm not stopping you."  
  
Mark's hands fumbled with the flies for a moment, but when he finally got them undone, he yanked the jeans off Peter's hips, and _fucking hell_ , he wasn't wearing any underwear.  
  
"Fuck," Mark breathed, sat up, firmly wrapped his arms around Peter's waist, and slid them both off the couch and onto the carpet, pinning Peter against the floor with his body.  
  
"God, you're such a slut," he whispered in Peter's ear, then bit at the crook of his neck.  
  
After a sharp intake of breath, Peter laughed, light and warm. "Well, that's the idea, isn't it?"  
  
Mark moved down Peter's body until he could finally take his cock into his mouth. The first drops of pre-come on Mark's tongue sent a sharp pang of arousal to his groin, and for a moment he was contemplating touching himself while sucking Peter off, but that would look a bit too desperate, surely. Still, Mark couldn't help the inexplicable urge to impress this man, so he relaxed the muscled in his throat as well as he could, and swallowed him down to the hilt.  
  
Peter was moaning softly, body writhing on the soft carpet. Mark didn't know how much of this was genuine, whether he really was enjoying himself that much, or if he was simply putting on a very convincing show. Mark was surprised at himself when he realised that in the end, he didn't care all that much. Peter certainly like things well enough for his prick to go rock-hard in Mark's throat, and if the rest was just pretence, well then, that's what he got paid for after all.  
  
It was at this thought, the realisation that he was blowing a slutty rent-boy and loving every second of it that Mark stopped caring how he looked. He unzipped his trousers and started to wank himself off in time with his mouth sucking on Peter's cock.  
  
"Fuck, yes, touch yourself." Peter had pulled up his vest to pinch at his nipples, and Mark couldn't help but admire his compact, subtly muscled torso. "God, I'm so close." his voice had dropped half an octave and was cut off by panting breaths. "How do you want me to..."  
  
He trailed off, but instead of answering, Mark sucked him even harder than before, and brought a hand up to caress his balls. Peter came with a shout, fucking up into Mark's mouth with rough thrusts, and Mark tried to swallow everything, but drops of come escaped from the corners of his mouth and ran down his chin. He kept sucking all through Peter's orgasm, and only pulled off when Peter, too sensitive after having come so hard, pushed him away.  
  
Almost immediately, Peter sat up and pulled Mark towards himself. "Fuck, no, sorry. Come here." He was clearly still trying to catch his breath, but despite panting managed to kiss Mark soundly, licking the drops of come off his chin and mouth.  
  
"Here, let me-" He pushed Mark back so he was sitting with his shoulders against the sofa's armrest, and immediately bent down to lick at the head of Mark's cock.  
  
Mark was so close already, and it didn't take more than Peter's talented mouth bobbing up and down a few times before he came, one hand buried in Peter's hair, trying not to hold him in place too firmly.  
  
When he had managed to come down from his orgasm a little, Mark leaned in for a kiss. "Thank you," he breathed, "that was - thank you."  
  
Ian smiled. "You don't have to thank me," he mumbled against Mark's lips, "That was much more fun than I expected."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really."  
  
Ian helped Mark up and they sank down onto the couch together. "You know," Ian began, "I wouldn't mind trying that a second time. That is," he added, "if I can wear a looser pair of jeans."


End file.
